The Man  In The Beast
by datura070
Summary: When Dave is cursed, unable to see his true self, can anyone save him from himself? Especially when no one can see past his rage.  Beauty and the Beast Kurtofsky
1. Prologue

Prologue

When I was first born, I remember being happy with who I am. I didn't think there was anything wrong. I know better now.

* 4 years later *

I was sitting in my father's old study when I heard the first knock on my door. It seemed filled with a sense of urgency, so I left my book behind and hurried to the door myself, choosing not to wait for one of the servants to arrive. Rushing through the front hall, I nearly tripped over a loose corner of the red velvet carpet that covered the floor. When I finally reached the foyer, it took all my strength to pull open the large wooden door.

"Well, it's about time," a shrill voice called through the dark.

"Sorry, miss. I didn't know I was expecting company," I replied, trying to discern a figure in the dark of the night.

A young woman stepped out of the dark and into the candlelight, her dark hair reflecting the glow.

"You weren't. But lucky for you, I've decided to grace your house with my presence. What's your name?"

"David. And my parents told me not to ever let strangers into the house," I replied, standing between her and my home.

"But I'm not just any stranger, David. I'm special, you see. You need'nt worry," she said, taking a step closer to me.

I let my eyes roam over her, but could not find anything different from her and any other traveller, and without a thought, I told her just as much.

"You don't seem very special." I didn't mean for the words to be so caustic.

"Not special? And I suppose you think you are?" the woman shrieked.

"Well-" I tried to pacify her, but she would hear none of it, cutting me off.

"You aren't special, and hardly perfect. I'll show you, walking around as if you're better than everyone else, better than me. You-you beast!" she yelled, rushing toward me, "Now, no one will be able to see the man within the beast."

She grabbed me, her hands glowing, and where they touched the naked flesh of my arms, it felt like sludge was pouring into my veins. My legs failed me, and I fell sideways, knocking into the rosebush beside the door, their thorns scratching along my face and arms. I tried to catch myself, my arms shooting out in front of me. As my hands struggled to find purchase, all they could find were thorns, and just before my head hit the hard concrete surface of the porch, my left hand closed around a stem, the thorns piercing my hand, and the stem snapping easily, causing my hand to fall to my side. My eyelids grew heavy, and darkness filled my vision.

*Present*

Some might think that I despise the witch who cursed me that day, but I do not. Now I can see what I could not before, I realize just how disgusting and horrible I am. Thanks to her, I can ensure that I never burden another person with my existence ever again.


	2. The Curse

Chapter Title: The Curse

Chapter Rating: K

Chapter Warnings: none (through the story: violence, guy-on-guy sex, cursing, etc.)

Pairings: Kurtofsky, Finchel, Brittana, one-sided!Klaine

A/N: This huge black guy that sits next to me in class kept looking over at this and reading it while I was writing. Weird.

Disclaimer: Is this canon? No? Then it still isn't mine.

* three weeks after transformation *

The witch, who had arrived so abruptly and violently, had taken it upon herself to make a permanent home of the castle. She had settled in the master bedroom, indulging herself and making good use of the poor cursed servants. Her favorite by far thought was Finn, and she would often call upon him simply for his company.

"Finn, the old shrew is calling for you again!" the voice of Santana, the house's caretaker, echoed through the now-barren chambers.

Finn rushed to the witch's side, as he enjoyed their time together just as much.

"Lady Rachel, you called?" Finn said tentatively, making no more than a crack in the door.

"Come in, Finn, come in," she called back, motioning him forward, "I was wondering if you might take a walk with me."

"Of course, Lady Rachel," Finn beamed.

"Finn, how many times do I have to tell you?" Call me Rachel."

"I don't think he's bad, you know. David, I mean," Finn mumbled as he settled himself into the still dew covered grass and his legs into the cool water of the pond, pushing his feet as deep as he could into the cool loose mud at the bottom.

"He told _me _I wasn't special. _Me_!" Rachel growled, crossing her arms petulantly.

The cool morning breeze blew past them, rustling Rachel's hair and disturbing the leaves of an old oak tree nearby. A leaf, whose stem had been nearly chewed through by a small cluster of aphids, snapped loose and drifted toward the glassy surface of the pond, disturbing the tension and rippling the water out toward the edges. Finn and Rachel watched as their reflections were distorted, making them look strange. Disfigured.

"He was nice to me before. I think we might've even been friends," Finn whispered as he watched the water settle once more.

"Finn …" Rachel sighed.

"I-I don't' think he's bad," Finn repeated, barely a whisper.

Rachel sighed, deep in thought. Though she loathed to admit such a thing, she was beginning to suspect that she may have been wrong, might've acted too rashly. All she had heard since taking up residence here was how nice David was, how sweet and caring he had been. And how horrible they thought she had acted. But what if she had made a mistake? What if she had acted too rashly?

And what if he was a horrible, spoiled little boy? What am I supposed to do now, Finn? Magic doesn't work like that. What's done is done," Rachel cried, her feels beginning to overwhelm her, her voice becoming slightly hysterical.

"But couldn't you do something else? Something like those other princesses had? You know, like Cinderella or sleeping beauty?"

"Dave is hardly a princess, Finn. And I'm no fairy godmother," Rachel said, a rueful smile stretching across her features.

"Please, Rachel. Isn't there something we can do?" Finn whimpered, shifting so that he was facing Rachel completely, and pulling her hands into his. "David doesn't deserve this. He doesn't even leave his room anymore, afraid of scaring us off. He hates himself now, and no one deserves that."

Rachel's heart leapt at hearing only her given name pass through Finn's lips, but that feeling was quickly overwhelmed by guilt as what Finn has said sunk in. What had she done? Finn was right. No one deserved what she had done to David.

"I'll make this right, Finn. I promise," she said, squeezing his hands tightly before pulling away, moving to stand up, "I have to go away from a while, Finn, but I promise I'll be back. I'll come back in one week's time."

DKDKDKDKDKDKDKDKDKDKDKDKDKDK

Determined to change what she had done, Rachel raced off to find an answer. No matter where she went though, it appeared that no one had an answer. But after six days, and numerous traded in favors, she found a glimmer of hope. In one of the oldest spell books left, there was an ancient spell, a spell written before the rules of magic that exist now were in place. All she needed was a drop of Dave's blood. Before transformation.

DKDKDKDKDKDKDKDKDKDKDKDKDKDK

It took her nearly two days to return, but when she arrived, Finn was waiting in the front hall for her, and she could see the other three glancing around the corner, watching them.

"You're late," Finn said, his smile filled with hope, "You found something?"

"Maybe. But I need your help. Has Dave ever had any accidents around the house? Any time he might've bled on something?"

Before Finn could reply, Santana cut him off.

"If he has, it's long gone by now. Why? His current pain not enough to satisfy you?"

"I always make sure to clean up all of David's messes," Brittany chirped, smoothing down the skirt of her maid uniform.

"Please. There has to be something. It's the only way to save David," Rachel pleaded, feeling her hope slipping away.

"And suddenly you care? David has been locked away for weeks! He hasn't even eaten in days," Santana squawked, daring to step closer to the witch.

Rachel flinched at her words, hesitating. She chose her words carefully, doing her best to express her regret.

"I was wrong, something I loathe to admit. But I was. What I did was horrible, unforgivable maybe. But I want to make it right. I _need _his blood."

The frown never left Santana's face, but she seemed to be turning Rachel's words over in her head.

"Okay," she said, nodding her head, a note of finality in her voice.

"Okay?" Rachel asked, a fleck of hope dancing in her eyes.

"We'll help you," Santana replied, "But make no mistake. This is for Dave, not for you."

"Of course," Rachel whispered, "Thank you."

"Alright, people. We need-" Santana spoke with an air of authority, but Brittany didn't even hesitate to interrupt her.

"I know where Dave's blood is," she giggled, swaying a bit as she watched how her hemline moved against her legs.

"You do?" Rachel gasped, trying to restrain herself from moving toward the girl.

"I told you. I always clean up Dave's messes. Those roses he tore down outside, I put them into the vase on the dining table," Brittany said, smiling at the two girls.

"The rose …" Rachel murmured, remembering it for the first time in weeks.

Her face became lighter, as if a large burden has been removed, and the four servants could almost see the wheels turning in her head. Without another word, she moved past the four and toward the dining hall, straight for the rose. It was clear immediately which one it was, for the others had begun to go brown. Rachel grabbed it quickly, pulling out the piece of paper she had scrawled the spell onto. By the time the others had arrived, she had completed the spell, and the rose, Dave's rose, was floating in between her outstretched hands, perfectly preserved and glowing faintly. All twenty petals were filled with life, shining like the rarest of rubies. Rachel grabbed a stray saucer and transformed in into a glass cylinder, domed at the top. She gently placed the delicate bud inside, before turning toward her audience.

"What's that for?" Finn asked, trying to busy his mind and resist the urge to reach out and touch the glowing flower.

"I couldn't undo the spell. I don't know have that power. But I could do this. It's the only way. I could only give him until his eighteenth birthday though. The flower monitors his time, a petal falling every month until then."

"I'm hearing a lot of words, but not any of them have offered a solution, witch," Santana snapped, growing impatient.

"Now the curse can be broken. Somewhere, there is a person who can saved David from himself. Until he can find the one who can see past the curse, who can love him, none outside of this castle will be able to see the man within the beast. But if he can find that one person, and they can love each other, the curse will disappear."

"David will go back to normal?" Santana asked.

"Yes. Like it never happened."

"What happens if he doesn't though?" Azimio asked, speaking to the witch for the first time.

"What?" Rachel replied, too shocked by the boy's voice to absorb the question.

"You said you could only give him until his eighteenth birthday. What happens after that?" Azimio asked, his voice filled with a powerful tone that the others lacked.

Rachel stayed silent, her voice catching in her throat, and she considered for the first time that perhaps she had only exchanged one evil for another. Before, he would have remained cursed, hating himself for eternity, but now …

"If David cannot find that person by his eighteenth birthday … he will die."


	3. Kurt

Chapter Title: Kurt

Chapter Rating: K

Chapter Warnings: none (through the story: violence, guy-on-guy sex, cursing, etc.)

Pairings: Kurtofsky, Finchel, Brittana, one-sided!Klaine

A/N: Sorry for the delay, my idiot friend got me sick...

Disclaimer: Is this canon? No? Then it still isn't mine.

**DK DK DK DK DK DK**

Just outside of the castle's forest, a small village had sprung up a few years prior. It was a modest village, and nearly everyone was friendly. But, as a small village is inclined to be, it was filled with gossips, trying to fill their lives with as many interesting stories as possible. One of the villager's favorite topics was a young boy by the name of Kurt Hummel. He was an oddity in the village, by anyone's standards, and he had a thirst for life like no other.

Kurt and his father lived on the edge of the village, right between the blacksmith shop and the Jones' house, where Kurt's best friend Mercedes lived. The Hummels led a simple life, with Kurt apprenticing for the town's tailor, and his father working at the blacksmiths beside their house. The Hummels were good to everyone, and everyone, in turn, were good to them, even if the townspeople occasionally let their words flow too freely.

"Did you hear what that Hummel boy did yesterday? Absolutely outrageous!"

"What?"

"Mrs. Pearson said she saw him running all over town in a _dress_!"

"Really?"

"How … odd."

"Isn't he?"

"I don't know … maybe it was a tunic? That's the latest fashion in France, you know."

"Who cares? It's still peculiar."

Conversations like this were not uncommon in the village, and nearly everyone had taken part at one time or another. Kurt refused to let this faze him thought, walking through the village with his head held high. Kurt Hummel refused to be ashamed of himself.

**DK DK DK DK DK DK DK**

"I know you're very busy, but is there any chance you could get these done by Wednesday? I'm running out of things that fit," Quinn, the town's current main source of gossip, called, turning her head toward the back of the shop where Kurt had disappeared to a few minutes before.

Kurt's head popped up from a pile of fabric, and he began to extract himself from the colorful chaos. He grabbed a few handfuls of ribbon and thread before heading back toward Quinn, a thin needle pinched between his thumb and pointer finger.

"Of course, Quinn," he said as he worked on securing the extra fabric to the back of her dress, alternating between ribbon and a few quick stitches. "You know I'll take care of you. Besides, Mercedes will have my head if I don't."

The two shared a fond chuckle over their mutual friend, before returning to a comfortable silence, Kurt continuing his work, and Quinn turning when prompted. Kurt had nearly finished when, on schedule, his work was interrupted by one Blaine Anderson.

Blaine was often the talk of the town, but for more 'noble' reasons than out-of-wedlock pregnancy or running about in a tunic. He was the town's prized huntsman, and considered to be the town's 'most eligible bachelor.' Unfortunately, his eyes tended to not linger long on the women of the town, a well-kept secret that he had only ever shared with his friend, Kurt.

"Blaine! It's so great to see you! How was this week's hunt? You didn't get yourself in any trouble, did you?" Kurt called, a smile stretching over his face as Blaine walked toward them.

"It's good to see you too, Kurt," he replied, pulling his friend to him.

Kurt privately took in Blaine's scent, re-memorizing everything that made Blaine the man he cared for, the man he loved. Kurt had a secret of his own, something he hadn't even share with even his closest of friends. While Blaine was falling for every other boy in the village, Kurt was busy longing for Blaine. Not matter how many hints he dropped though, Blaine seemed adamant to keep Kurt as just a friend. Kurt wasn't one to give up easily though, so that didn't seem to matter. Kurt never gave up when he wanted something.

**DK DK DK DK DK**

Castle; 4 months before Dave's Birthday

At first, it had been nearly impossible to get Dave to leave his chambers, or even eat, but eventually, with some coaxing from his friends, and some threats from Santana, David had finally conceded to eat daily, and leave his rooms at least once a week. They had argued over the latter point several times, but the servants and the witch had quickly discovered that with David in his room so much, it left them with more than enough time to scheme. So far though, they were 0 for 7, with Dave quickly turning away any young women that Rachel had called to the palace.

"What are we supposed to do now, witch? So far, every girl you've brought here has been too lazy to fight to stay, and too self-centered to even care about why they were being kicked out in the first place," Azimio grumbled, collapsing into the soft satin of the couch, and turning his glare toward Rachel, watching her slowly stoke the fire. He contemplated just shoving her in.

"Well what do you suggest? It's not like there's a huge line of girls outside, dying to brave the beast," Rachel replied, her temper taking over.

The five sat in silence, weighing their options. Four years, and they had accomplished nothing. Their deadline was rapidly approaching, and they were running out of options.

**DK DK DK DK DK DK DK DK**

The Town

With nothing else to do, Finn and Azimio grew restless. The two wandered the house, looking for something to do, and generally being a nuisance to everyone. Two days into their mutual slump, Santana kicked them out, produce list in hand, telling them not to come back until they were either too tired to move, or toting enough food for a month. And, as both were inclined to not wanting to die at the hands of Santana, Finn rolled around the carriage while Azimio grabbed a couple horses from the barn, and the two hurried off toward the village at the bottom of the mountain.

The Shuesters were the best and only food suppliers of the village, and they had been loyal suppliers for the Karofsky family for as long as anyone could remember.

"Finn, Azimio, it's great to see you! I wasn't expecting you for another week though, so I'm afraid we might not have everything you're looking for," Will Shuester, the shop's current owner, greeted the two, his smile as bright as ever.

"Well, we were in the area, so …" Finn chuckled, "But that's alright. Whatever you can give us will be fine for now."

The three men got to work filling the cart with everything they could get for Santana's list. The work was mostly silent, with only a few small words of recognition interspersed over the course of an hour. The three were just finishing up when another boy, about Finn and Azimio's age, entered the shop. He gave Mr. Shuester a polite nod before moving to the back of the store and beginning to rummage through the apples to find just the right ones. Azimio and Mr. Shuester didn't give the boy a second thought, but something about the boy made Finn stop. His eyes followed the boy as he moved around the shop, collecting a few fruits and vegetables as he went. Finally, he had made a full circuit of the store, coming to a stop in front of Finn.

"Excuse me," he mumbled, not even looking up from his inspection of a nearby bag of potatoes.

"What?" Finn asked, the boy's words disturbing his train of thought.

Finn's hesitance caught the boy off guard, and caught his attention enough that his attention was pulled away from the produce.

"I … I need to get by you. You're in front of the flour." The unfamiliarity of Finn's face caught the boy off guard, causing him to hesitate. The boy was obviously not used to running across strangers.

"Do-do I know you? You don't seem familiar, but this town doesn't get that many strangers. And none of my friends told me about anyone new …" the boy asked, looking Finn over before returning his gaze to Finn's eyes.

The boy had an air of confidence about him that Finn hadn't ever seen on anyone but Rachel before, and he was momentarily taken aback. The way the boy held himself was different from what Finn was used to, and the boy seemed so comfortable, despite the foreign situation, something Finn was not.

"What's your name?" Finn blurted out before he could stop himself.

"Kurt. Kurt Hummel. And yours?" Kurt smiled at him politely, extending his hand toward Finn.

"Finn. I work for the Karofsky family. On the hill," he replied.

The two shook hands, but their meeting was cut short by the sudden arrival of a large, hulking boy. He had been heading for the right side of the store, but upon seeing Kurt, changed his path and began moving toward Finn and Kurt.

"Well, if it isn't the local fairy. Come to pollute the waters early this time?" the boy barked, crossing his arms across his chest and pulling himself up to his full height, trying to look at intimidating as possible.

Kurt gave a long-suffering sigh, giving off the appearance of being entirely used to this treatment. He squared his feet, preparing himself to face off the much larger boy. Before the two could get another word out though, Finn interrupted the fierce stare-down.

"What's that supposed to mean?" he asked, rounding on the larger boy.

The boy's face quickly transformed into a sneer, refocusing his pent-up frustrations onto Finn. His hands, still folded across his chest, relfexively balled into fists, his knuckles cracking under the sudden strain. Before harsh words could be traded or any fists flew, the fight was stalled by the return of Azimio and Mr. Shuester. The large boy turned away from Finn and Kurt, heading off in the opposite direction.

"The cart's all packed, Hudson. You all finished in here?" Azimio grumbled, his eyes narrowing as they followed the retreating form across the store.

Finn paused, before inclining his head toward Kurt in farewell and following Azimio outside. The two clambered back inside the small cart and turned back toward the forest, preparing to head home. They hadn't even made it past the house next to the shop before Kurt burst out through the door, yelling to get their attention. They brought the horses to a stop, and once the dust of the road had settled, Kurt stepped up to the carriage, a small crate in his hands.

"Mr. Shuester said he forgot this," Kurt said, hefting the crate into the air so Finn could grab it.

Finn placed the crate in the back, careful not to disturb the contents, before turning back toward Kurt.

"Hey, um, are you alright? I mean, does that guy give you much trouble?" Finn questioned, his voice laced with concern.

Kurt looked as if he was tempted to give a rather brutal answer, but thought better of it and simply smiled sweetly up at Finn, a bit of dark sadness creeping into the strained expression, and replied, "Nothing I can't handle."

He chuckled lightly, but it seemed a bit empty. None the less, he refused to let his smile crack.

"You're sure?" Finn countered, as even he was able to tell Kurt wasn't being all entirely sincere.

Without pause this time, and with a bit more sincerity, Kurt simply replied, "Don't worry, I can take care of myself," and waves lightly, turning back toward the shop.

Finn looked over at Azimio, trying to determine his reaction to the boy's words, but he simply shrugged and coaxed the horses back into motion. The two rode in silence for quite some time, listening to the sounds of the forest, and feeling the soil shift the wagon as they rode, until Finn broke the quiet with a simple, "So?"

Azimio almost didn't reply, the word not entirely registering, conflicting with the peaceful sounds of the forest that had begun to lull him into a sort of calm daze. It took him another moment to process the word, trying to come up with what Finn was wondering about, and, after coming up with nothing, quietly replied, "So what?"

"What do you think of Kurt?" Finn responded, as if it was the most obvious thing in the world.

"He seems … nice, I guess. Any reason you're asking?" Azimio mumbled, still extremely confused by Finn's sudden need to talk abou the boy from earlier.

"Isn't it obvious, Az?" Finn exclaimed, looking over at Azmio. He was greeted with a confused expression.

"Only to you, as usual," Azimio said, "Now, explain."

"Don't you think he'd be just perfect for Dave?" Finn chirped.

A/N2: **VERY IMPORTANT! **Again, sorry for the delay. The next chapter should be up in a week or two. Also, please feel free to follow me on tumblr (username: lytdraca) because I'll put up story info, story art, one-shots, etc. there. Finally, please review so I can know how you're enjoying the story so far. If you don't tell me, I can't improve.


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